


Could We Start Again, Please?

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fic Exchange, HP: EWE, Post - Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-22
Updated: 2007-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco spoke suddenly, startling Hermione from her thoughts. “I regret things weren’t different between us.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could We Start Again, Please?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic I wrote for the [](http://dmhgficexchange.livejournal.com/profile)[**dmhgficexchange**](http://dmhgficexchange.livejournal.com/) Thanks to my beta, [](http://reallyginnyf.livejournal.com/profile)[**reallyginnyf**](http://reallyginnyf.livejournal.com/) for helping me throughout this exchange. I wasn't going to participate and now I'm glad I did.

Hermione ran through the Floo network clutching her children's hands tightly as she rushed across the main floor of the Ministry towards the lift. She hadn't been able to find anyone to watch Rose and Hugo for the day and when she realized how late it was, was forced to bring them along to work with her. The bulk of the morning rush had already passed so things were pretty calm save for the interdepartmental memos that rushed in and out of the lift at each floor.

“Mummy, I’m hungry.” Hermione looked down at her young son.

“Hugo, we just had breakfast minutes ago. I’m sure you can wait a little longer.”

The lift doors opened again and Hermione hurried the children onto the fourth floor. It was Friday and she knew there was an obscene amount of paperwork waiting to be completed on her desk. At the end of the longest corridor she turned and headed for her office door, making a mental list of all the days’ priorities. She had a persistent feeling she was forgetting something. She stopped suddenly when she spotted someone waiting at her door. The man had his back turned to her, but the blonde hair falling past his shoulders was familiar. She tensed instinctively, drawing Hugo and Rose closer to her side, but then shook her head. It wasn't Lucius Malfoy, but Draco, which didn’t do much to calm her nerves.

Hearing her approach, Draco turned, his black cloak sweeping behind him. Hermione was taken aback by his striking resemblance to his father. He had the same fair skin and strong features of Lucius Malfoy; he was even carrying his father’s old cane. As she studied him, she recognized the boy she had gone to school with. He was taller and his frame wider but it was unmistakable. His grey eyes seemed darker than she remembered.

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten.” Draco waited expectantly, smoothing out the front of his cloak. When Hermione did not respond, he sighed.

“I received an owl from the Ministry last week. We have an appointment today.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I haven’t forgotten. I was just a bit delayed this morning.”

Draco looked down at the two children by her side.

"So I see."

“Please step inside; I’ll just be a moment settling in.”

The children were the first to enter. Hugo and Rose ran to Hermione’s chair and immediately engaged in an argument over who would sit first. Draco entered tentatively and began looking around the room. It was rather small and a bit messy. Hermione began to feel awkward as she quickly used her wand to set the scattered files to filing themselves. Draco removed his long cloak and draped it on the back of the only other chair in the room. He watched as the children continued to argue.

This was the first time Hermione had seen Draco since his father had died. They were no longer children and she wasn’t sure how to act towards him. Hermione knew it was silly, but she expected him to strike at any moment. She searched for the Malfoy file in a drawer inside her desk while trying to keep an eye on Draco and her children simultaneously.

Hugo and Rose continued to push each other for control of the seat and in one particularly strong shove hit the table, knocking a small wooden box from Hermione’s desk onto the floor. Hermione gave them a stern look.

“It's bad manners to argue,” She reminded them. Hugo blushed and hid behind the chair but Rose huffed and sat down.

"I apologize," said Hermione, turning to Draco. "They get restless.”

Draco ignored her and instead spoke directly to the children.

“Are you two familiar with the fountain on the main floor?”

Hugo poked his head out from behind the chair as Rose asked, "The wishing fountain for Saint Mungo’s?”

Draco nodded. “Can you both do something for me?”

Rose looked to her mother who in turn looked at Draco. Hermione was reluctant, but knowing her children were safe inside the Ministry, she nodded to Rose. Draco reached into his pocket, pulled out two Knuts and held out his hand.

"Make a wish.” Rose smiled and quickly scooped the coins into her hands and headed for the door, Hugo trailing after her. With the children gone, Draco finally took a seat. Hermione did the same.

She smiled at him as he settled into his chair. "That’s one way to deal with children.”

He shrugged. “It keeps them busy.”

Hermione opened the large file and retrieved the newest piece of parchment. This cordiality was strange to her.

"The Ministry has finished its investigation into your father’s estate.”

“Did they find anything?” he asked, his tone suggesting he already knew the answer.

Hermione hesitated. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Draco scoffed. “The Minister has always known there was nothing there. He’s finally run out of excuses to keep it from me.” His voice hardened. “The moment my father died he couldn’t wait to throw me out into the street.”

Hermione cleared her throat; he was very close to the truth. She wondered how much he knew.

“The investigation took longer than expected. The Minister extends his sincerest apologies for the inconvenience.” She wanted to cringe at the sound of such drivel coming from her mouth but the Minister had been very clear on this point. This was one of her duties in the Department  
of Magical Law Enforcement she absolutely loathed.

“Ten years is a bit more than an ‘inconvenience.’”

“Granted, but it's possible you will have possession of the manor by the end of the month.”

“Possible?” he asked.

Hermione sat back in her chair and sighed, silently cursing the Minister.

“The Ministry is requesting a trial before the Wizengamot prior to releasing the manor.”

“It's my family home, Mrs. Weasley; it’s only fair that it be returned to me!”

"The trial is just a formality. We’ll complete these parchments with the details listed and send them off to the Wizengamot. They’re dealing with all this paperwork too.” She waited until he seemed calmer and then added quietly, "And I'm no longer a Weasley. It’s Ms. Granger now.” Even though she had been divorced for two years it still felt strange to tell people.

His expression softened. “I didn’t know.”

"It’s nothing.” She shook her head but suddenly felt the urge to cry.

“These things happen.”

He watched her for a bit and nodded. “It’s getting harder and harder to keep families together.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than to her at this point.

She looked down at the scrolls on her desk and searched her mind for a change in subject.

Draco spoke into the awkward silence. “How old are they?”

This question confused her. Noting the puzzled look on her face, he indicated the picture on her desk of a giggling Rose and Hugo. His expression was sullen. She cleared her throat once again.

“Rose is eleven, Hugo nine.”

“My son will turn eleven this winter.” Draco looked back at Hermione, "He lives in Spain with his mother.”

Hermione understood the underlying message. He had gone through a separation of his own. She wasn't sure if this made her feel better or worse.

“They’ll be off to Hogwarts together then.”

The mention of Hogwarts didn’t seem to improve his mood.

“I hope it’s different for them,” he said, seeming desperately sad for a moment before regaining his cool demeanor.

“It will be. The wizarding world is safe now.”

“Do you remember when we were at school together?” Draco leaned toward Hermione, watching her intently.

She sighed and replaced the parchment on her desk. It was apparent that paperwork would be the last thing she’d get to finish today.

“Of course I do. Those were the hardest seven years of my life.”

Although she had been referring to the fight against Voldemort, he had apparently meant the question differently.

“I was just a child...I didn’t know any better.”

“I’m sorry, Draco, I’m not sure I'm following...”

“There isn’t a day that passes where I don’t replay it all in my mind...but this time I make the right decisions.” He spoke bitterly, rubbing his hands together and looking at nothing in particular.

Hermione was reminded of moments where she had done the same thing. “The past is irrelevant now," she said, trying to reassure him. "You’ve proven that you aren’t the same person.”

“If it was irrelevant I wouldn’t be sitting here begging for my home!” The volume of his voice was startling in contrast to the calm silence.“I wouldn’t have to prove I’m not some monster!” Draco bit his lip and tried to control his breathing. “I don't want my son to pay for my sins." He suddenly seemed weary. "I don’t want him to suffer because of where he comes from.” He rubbed his left forearm unconsciously. "There are things that I can't erase."

Hermione shivered. No matter how hard they tried they would never be allowed to forget. “There are things that aren’t meant to be erased. There are lessons that will last a lifetime."

Hermione saw his attention shift to something on the floor. In a sudden movement, he leaned over and lifted the box that had previously fallen from her desk. He held it gently, caressing the wood. Her mother's music box...why would he be interested in that? Draco turned the box on  
its side and opened a small compartment at the base. A sweet melody filled the room.

“How did you…?”

“My mother had a music box just like this." He turned the box in his hands and touched each engraving with the fingertips. A small smile spread across his lips. "It's Ravel's 'Bolero.' My mother loved it. She used to listen to it all the time. I hadn’t thought of it for years.” His smile left as quickly as it came. He held the box but no longer looked at it. "He took it away from her."

There was no need for clarification. Hermione knew exactly who 'he' was. She was quiet as she thought about their school days. Voldemort had hurt them all. It felt strange to share that bond with someone who had once been her enemy. Hermione didn't believe in destiny, but there  
was always the exception. There was more to be seen.

Draco spoke, startling Hermione from her thoughts. “I regret things weren’t different between us.”

“They still could be,” Hermione said without thinking and blushed when his expression changed. She thought about all the ways she could possibly mean that. She looked into the darkness of his eyes, and he did not look away.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked, leaning forward and reaching across the desk to take her hand in his.

She bit her lip as his touch made her feel warm.

At that very moment, Rose and Hugo burst into the room. Hermione snatched her hand away from Draco as if he had burned her. Draco seemed on the verge of speech, but decided against it and closed his mouth. He sat back and looked at Rose, his cool demeanor returning to him.

“We did it.” Rose smiled triumphantly. “We went to the fountain and we both made wishes.”

“Well, you can definitely follow directions.” Draco stood from his seat. “I’m starting to doubt you’re really a Weasley.” Rose giggled.

Draco picked up his cane and cloak and turned to Hermione, avoiding her gaze. When had her heart started being so fast?

“Thank you for your help, Ms. Granger, but I think I’ve taken up enough of your time today." He put the small music box back on her desk. He smiled for a moment, "We'll have to finish up our...business another day."  
\-------


End file.
